Pokèmon
by cornwallace
Summary: It's time to begin again.
1. Ash

Saying goodbye is hard for me.

It never feels like enough.  
I always feel like I could have said more.  
I always feel like I could have said it better.

No matter how many times you say "I'll see you soon!" it never gets any less sad.  
Before you know it, you're on the train and it's all you can think about.  
It's not like saying it will make it happen sooner.

Wondering when I'll get to see my mom again.

Every couple of hours, the train slows to a stop. Large groups of people passing me on my left in waves, going back and forth.  
Haven't been gone a day, and I already feel homesick.

Drop my bag into the seat next to me. The contents shuffling around and clinking.  
Nobody is going to sit next to me, anyway.

Head rests against the window.  
The thick material of my cap separating my flesh from the cold glass.

We leave another station that looks just like all the others, and the crowded public areas are soon replaced with trees and power lines.

Close my eyes.  
Another few hours before my stop.

I'm so tired...

* * *

____

What is it you most desire?

His voice is deep, a lot deeper than you might imagine it would be.

What is it I most desire...?

__

Yes. What is it you want the most out of the world?

I... haven't really thought about it.

__

Take all the time you need.

I guess I-

__

Yess?

No, it's stupid.

__

It isn't? What do you want?

I want to be the best.

__

The best....?

The best.

__

The best what?

I want to the best Pokèmon trainer. Ever.

__

That's it?

What do you mean?

__

I mean, that's easy, kid.

Easy?!

__

Relax, kid. You have me on your side. You'll be fine.

* * *

"Please state your name. Last name first, first name last."

"Ketchum, Ash."

"Catchem?" she asks dumbly.

"Ketchum."

"How's that spelled?"

Sigh.  
"K-E-T-C-H-U-M"

She scribbles it down on a notepad and looks up at me again. Her glasses magnifying her eyes. Her hair eccentrically styled and colored pink. She looks at me again with her blue eyes and asks me;  
"Ash?"

"Yes ma'am," I respond.

"And how old are you?" she asks, her words partially obstructed by the eraser tip lodged in the corner of her mouth. She nibbles on it, awaiting an answer.

"Ten," I say, yawning into my fist.  
She yawns, too.

Every time I yawn, I look around to see if other people are yawning.  
Chances are that somebody is.  
Try it, sometime.

"Are you a veteran?"

"A veteran?"

__

She means to ask if you've entered this contest before.

"Have you entere-"

"No."

"Oh," she states, pausing. "Of course you aren't."  
The eraser tapping against her lip. She scribbles something down and stuffs the pencil in her hair. It disappears behind the mess sitting on her head that she calls hair.

"You're only allowed six Pokèmon. Whatever items you can carry, but you aren't allowed to change once the competition has begun, so choose wisely."

"I only have one Pokèmon," I tell her, pointing to the little yellow creature in my lap.

She looks at me, dumbfounded.  
"Are you joking?"

"No."

She sighs and stares at me.  
Shoving the glasses up the bridge of her nose, her eyes bounce back and forth as if she were reading a book. Her mouth moving along with the words in her head.

__

This is how stupid people think.

"Stop," I say, chastising him.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, sorry. I was talking to Pikachu."

"Uhh... right."  
Her face scrunches up.  
She squints to look over at me.

"And why isn't that thing in its ball?"

"It doesn't like the ball," I tell her.

"Of course it doesn't like the ball," she says, grunting. "What kind of trainer are you, anyway?"

"Uh-"  
Try to speak, but she cuts me off.

This lady is rude. I don't really like her.

"Do you even have the eight badges?" she says impatiently.  
Clipboard resting in her hand, at her hip.

"Eight badges?" I ask.

"Are you _kidding _me?! Get out of here, kid! Quit wasting my time."  
She points to the exit, and I don't know how to react.

"Now," she says. "Next!"

And with that, I stand up and march out.

* * *

_Come on, kid. Cheer up._

How can you even say that?! How could I possibly cheer up! I'm so stupid.

__

You don't have to cry, Ash.

I'm not crying!

The back of my gloves dampen as I wipe my face with the back of my hands.

__

It's not so bad, kid.

Not so bad? Not so bad?!

__

Yeah. I mean, it could always be worse.

Worse? I've traveled all this way, all the way from Pallet Town, only to be shot down! I wasted all the money I had to get here! Nobody said anything about any BADGES! I spent all the money I had on the trip down here! How in the world am I supposed to get back?!

__

I don't-

"How could this possibly be any WORSE?!"

"Prepare for trouble!"

"Make it double!"  
My attention is turned to see two people at the end of the alley in strange costumes with a Meowth. They do some strange interpretive dance as they speak.  
It's a bit hard to follow.

"To protect the world from devastation!"

"To unite all people within our nation!"

"To denounce the evils of truth and love!"

"To extend our reach to the stars above!"

"Jesse!"

"James!"

"Team Rocket; blast off at the speed of light!"

"Surrender now, or prepare to fight."  
They take up this strange formation, standing next to one another, mirroring each other.  
The Meowth just stands in the middle.

"Meowth!" the barely noticeable Pokèmon in the center says. "That's right!"

Gasp!

"Your Meowth! It talked!" I stammer.

"Yeah, he does that," male says, moving from his strange stance, and crossing his arms tightly around his chest.

"Other than that, the thing is completely useless," notes female, following suit.

"Thaaat's right!" Meowth says, not listening to what's being said.

"Well, that was a neat little show," I say, scooping up my Pikachu in my arms and turning to leave. "But I have to go now. I don't have any money to give, sorry."

"Why don't we just take it, then?" male suggests.

"Excuse me, sir?" I ask, scratching my head.

"James. My name is James. Did you pay no attention to our introduction?"  
He speaks through clenched teeth.

If I were to guess, I'd say they have issues with their names being remembered.

"What are you guys? Some sort of theatre troupe?"

"Theatre troupe! Did you hear that, Jesse?" James says, his whining reminiscent of another big baby I've grown accustomed to ignoring.

"Pika?" Pikachu asks.

"I don't know," I tell him.

"Are you talking to that Pikachu?!" the woman asks, surprised. Which is strange, because they're traveling around with a talking Meowth.

"Uh. Yeah."

"Why?"  
She stares at me, face tightly scrunched up. Angrily awaiting an answer.

How am I supposed to answer a question like that?

"Because.... we understand each other?" I ask, unsure.

They exchange glances and begin to approach.  
Something isn't right here.  
My gut instinct tells me to leave.

I pick up my pack and turn to go.

"Wait!" she says.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"I have to go," I say, scratching my head. "I have to get home."

Start slowly stepping away.

"Sounds like he's lying," says female from behind me.

"Yeah," male adds, "you're a bad liar, kid."

Stop dead in my tracks.  
Turn around to face them.  
They've been closing in on me.  
Mere feet away, they stop when they see my eyes.

"I w-wouldn't lie to you."  
Words shaky.  
Nervous.

They just stare.  
Smiling.  
Smirking.  
Grinning that makes me uncomfortable.

"What would make you think I was lying?"

"You aren't going anywhere, kid."

"What do you mean?"

Male cuts me off by grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and pushing me back into the wall behind me.  
Before I can say anything, female's fist is buried in my gut.  
All of the air evacuates my lungs, and refuses to return.

Try to say something.  
Try to do something.  
Try to get away.

Flee. Escape.

Failure.

Male hits me in the face, cracking my nose and sending me down to the cold, hard pavement. A trail of blood fallows me. Still can't breathe. Struggling to suck air into my lungs, but only manage choking noises. Arms tightly wrapped around Pikachu, holding him to my chest.  
Kicked to my side and the pack is ripped off my arm, the strap ripping and coming back to slap me in the face on its way around my arm.

Suddenly all my hair begins to stand on end.

Hat is removed.

"N...ooo"

Hands wrap around the fidgeting ball of fur in my arms.

It growls and begins to scratch.

Hard impact to my kidney on the left side, then another to my head. Pikachu screams and as he's pulled from my grasp. Shockwaves sent through the air in all directions and my bodily functions are no longer under control. Immense pain and then-


	2. Brock

"Alright, begin!"

Blade digs into the side of the aluminum can.  
Beer splashes my hand as I twist the knife to create a circle towards the bottom.  
Fold the knife into the handle and stuff it into my pocket.  
Kiss the aluminum around the hole and tilt the can upwards. Hand groping the top for the tiny metal tab. Finger digs underneath it, a pop and a hiss as the beer comes flooding down my throat.

"Chug! Chug! Chug!"  
they chant in unison.

Sucking down foam, I crush the can on my head and throw the can on the ground. It clinks against the cement and a loud belch escapes my lips.

"Nice, man! That's the fastest I've ever seen anyone drink one of those!"

"Yeah, I know. I'm the shit."

Over the clapping and cheering, somewhere on the other side of the crowd, I hear that all-too-familiar voice. Officer Jenny. Fuck.

Before anyone else can react, I grab the bag of alcoholic beverages off the ground and cheese it. Bottles clinking in the bag with each step. Break for the mouth of the alleyway, and take a right. Cross the street without looking and dart into the adjacent alleyway.

Normally I wouldn't abandon my friends like that, but being caught breaking the law could seriously fuck with my chances of boning Officer Jenny. Have to be careful.

About halfway down the alley, there's another alley that branches off to the right. Make my way over there slowly, and rest against the wall to the left.

Man, I wish I had a cigarette right now. Fuck, I wish I could go buy one right now.  
Fucking age restriction.

Sigh.

What's that?  
Listen.  
Is that someone crying? A vulnerable girl, perhaps? Better check things out.

Slowly make my way towards the sound.

"Hello?"

No response. More sobbing. Sounds like it's coming from behind that dumpster.  
Approach.

"Excuse me, miss..." look down, eyes widen, "...ter."

He looks up at me, snot dripping from his nose. Tears raining from his chin. Looks to be about ten, or so. Fuck, dude. Wanted to get laid.

"Are you okay?"

"No," he says, voice breaking as he shields his eyes with his forearms.

Aw, hell, dude. I feel bad. And it's not even because I'm not gonna get laid. Well, it kinda is, but it kinda isn't, you know? Like, I don't know. I feel bad for the little dude, I guess. Normally, I wouldn't get involved, but I dunno.

"What's wrong little bro?"

Kneel in front of him. He starts babbling about a Pikachu and some sort of theatre troop, but I'm not really listening. I think the kid needs a beer. I set the bag down and open it up. Grab a beer and hand it to him. He stops going on about his electric rat and looks at the bottle hesitantly.

"W-what's that?"

"Beer, dude." Chuckle. "Don't you drink beer?"

"No. My mom says I'm not supposed to drink that stuff."

"Nah, dude. You got it all wrong. Alcohol is good for solving any problem."

"But I need to get my Pikachu back!"

"Dude. Are you ever going to get it back if you're a frantic, crying mess?"

"I-"

"The correct answer is no."

"But-"

"No buts, little guy. Drink up."

Twist the cap off for him, and force it into his hand. Force his hand to bring the bottle up to his open mouth, spilling delicious beer down his throat. He coughs, spitting up beer all over his pants.

"That stuff is horrible!"

"Does medicine ever taste good?" I ask, forcing the bottle into his mouth, glass clinking against his teeth, I turn it upward. "Drink up, man. It's for your own good."

* * *

"Where are we going?"

"We're going to a party, little guy. We're gonna get you laid."

"I don't feel right. I feel funny."

"That's normal, you're fine."

"What about my Pikachu?!"

"We'll get that tomorrow, kid. Don't worry about it."

"What's 'laid'?"

"Heh. Just keep walking. You'll find out soon enough."

* * *

Open the door and walk through. It's basically an open party by now, so many goddamn people that it doesn't matter if you know the owner of the house or not. Foolish bastard wanted a kegger, and by god, he got one."

They probably sell cups, but this isn't a problem. We already got drunk before the party. We're here for drunk, easy chicks.

"W......r...e?"

"WHAT?!"

"WHERE ARE WE?!"

"THE PARTY, DUDE!"

It's so loud in here with the music and everyone speaking so loudly amongst themselves that you have to scream to be heard. It's hard to walk three feet without bumping into someone. Lines around corners, which I suspect are for a shot at the keg or a moment in the bathroom.

"I NEED TO FIND MY PIKACHU!"

I turn around and notice he's crying again. He looks scared, frantically looking around at his surroundings. Turn back around and keep walking.

"DUDE! WE'RE NEVER GOING TO SCORE IF YOU KEEP CRYING LIKE THAT!"

Look behind me, and he's no longer there. A crowd of people stand in the general place where he just was. The fuck? Ah, whatever. Time to score.

* * *

After about an hour trying to hit on chicks, I've come to the conclusion that there must be a lot of lesbians in this town. Ah, well. Whatever. Maybe I should see if the kid's around.

Glance around. Don't see him. Just a bunch of blurry figures in a crowd.

Better get home. I'm either going to pass out soon, or puke. Maybe both.

Drunkenly stagger through the house, bumping into people. I've been told to watch it god knows how many times now. Fuck it, I don't even care. I'm afraid that watching it just isn't my style.

Finally finagle my way through the front door, and onto the quiet streets. We got here around sunset, and it's dark, now. The streetlights illuminating the desolate city streets. A little early to call it quits, but I'm long since intoxicated.

Make my way down the sidewalk. My house isn't far from here.

Trip on myself, catch the nearest trash can. Metal. Mesh. Holding myself up, I manage to throw up on a pile of trash. Smell is horrible.

Not gonna make it. I need to lay down.....


End file.
